My husband has been in San Diego this week for a work conference. I’m happy that he got to go, because I seem to travel more than he does and he deserved the break from our daily routine. The biggest issue with him being gone — for me — is the fact that I couldn’t call/text/email him throughout the day. My sounding board was unavailable, for the most part. We had the chance for an extended chat last night during a layover he had at the Seattle airport and I hope he was able to clean himself from the verbal diarrhea I bombarded him with.

I spent four days and three nights wrangling our three kids, deadlines, and general household duties and lived to tell about it (barely). Here are a few things that kept me sane:

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My husband and I have a lot in common, which is how we ended up being married (Thirteen years this May!). We also have a lot of differences. He is in introvert and I am am introverted extrovert. We have similar, and also different, love languages.

There are a few things I’ve learned over the years about communicating without conflict.

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It’s Easter weekend, which I’m sure you’re all well aware of, and in addition to celebrating chocolate bunnies and Easter egg hunts, our family celebrates the traditional Easter holiday with Good Friday and Easter Sunday services. We also hold Easter dinner on the Sunday night, as many of our friends do, and the topic of what’s for dinner always comes up.

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My husband and I aren’t ones to cuss (much). He’s a pastor at the church we attend and there isn’t a lot of cussing that happens in our circle of friends. There is the occasional stubbed toe, etc. that can see me muttering something blue, but I (usually) keep it under control if the kids are around.

Classic curse words aside, there are a number of words that are off limits in our house for both my husband and I, as well as our kids.

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My husband is headed out of town for a three-day conference with some coworkers soon, and the lovely folks who I work for here at Work It! Mom are sending my to the Mom 2.0 summit in May. I’m also hoping to make my way to BlogHer 2013 in Chicago this summer to connect with more fellow bloggers and finally meet the Work It! Mom team that I email and talk with on a regular basis.

When my husband goes out of town, I manage it all and when people ask me how I’m doing they seem to assume that I do the bulk of child-rearing and housekeeping around here (I don’t), so it’s probably not much different aside from nobody to hang out with when the kids are in bed.

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My husband turns thirty-six one week from today and I have absolutely NO idea what to get him. I’ve told him as much, multiple times, and he’s told me that he will give me some ideas, multiple times. We’re now a week away and if I need to order something online, it’s down to crunch time. I’d hate to be wandering the aisles of the local drug store the day before his birthday in the hopes that I could find something that would “do.”

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There are a number of things that are supposed to be the way to make your wife swoon. Flowers, chocolates, cleaning the house, cooking dinner (or taking her out for dinner), writing her notes, telling her nice things, and many others. Those are all fine and good, and they all make me feel loved (especially the nice words), but the one thing that is bound to make most women swoon is this:

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It’s tax time! (That exclamation mark was intended to make something rather arduous appear exciting! Because preparing tax returns is so! much! fun!)

(They aren’t fun at all, and I’m a professional accountant according to the initials behind my name.)

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Once upon a time (seven years ago), my husband and I attended a marriage course once a week for six weeks. One of the weeks covered love languages and it was a great learning experience. People are wired with different “love languages”, which affects how they feel loved and how they show love. If your love language is, say, “gifts”, receiving presents makes you feel loved and you will tend to show love to others by giving them presents.

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I watched ‘What To Expect When You’re Expecting’ with a few girlfriends this weekend and it dredged up some emotions that are eleven years old, but are still as fresh as if they occurred yesterday.

Once upon a time, my husband and I decided that it was time to try to get pregnant and start building our family. We did the deed (multiple times), we (I) became pregnant, and at about the five-week mark, I was hit with the physical symptoms of pregnancy. I was exhausted, my regular diet of chicken and salad became replaced with ALL OF THE CARBS, and I laughed/cried at ridiculous things.

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